Reflection
by KTCastle
Summary: The woman staring back at her was hardly recognizable. As she dressed in front of the mirror, Kate pondered what she saw. She looked…content? Happy? Definitely happy. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined she would ever feel so complete. She was a different person to the Kate Beckett who had stared back at her from the mirror just a few short years ago.


**Reflection.**

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_Thank you to Dan, who happily took on the role of beta for this story. I owed him a story, and as it looks like I am now writing them, this one is for him._

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The woman staring back at her was hardly recognizable. As she dressed in front of the mirror, Kate pondered what she saw. She looked…content? Happy? Definitely happy. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined she would ever feel so complete. She was a different person to the Kate Beckett who had stared back at her from the mirror just a few short years ago. The course of her life had again managed to take a dramatic turn, only this time it was for the better.

As she buttoned up her suit trousers, Kate let her fingertips glide across her lower abdomen. Her sensitive skin tingled and she jumped slightly, amazed at the heat immediately coursing through her veins. Memories of last night, still so vivid even in the starkness of the morning light, surged forward. She chuckled as she realized how prophetic her statement had been so many years ago, when he had suggested they go out after their first case for dinner and some 'debriefing'. She had declined when he offered to be 'one of her conquests' and he'd responded that it was 'too bad' and that it 'would have been great'. Leaning in closely towards his left ear, she had taunted him with one salacious line, "You've no idea."

In fact, _she_ was the one who had had no idea. No idea that this man who had driven her to distraction with his outlandish theories and childish immaturity, his 'rich playboy' persona and penchant for fast cars, would _complete_ her. She remembered reading his 'bucket list' after that ridiculous case where he truly believed he had been cursed. It had hit her then, when she saw to 'be with Kate' on that list so many years ago, how long he had been serious about her, about _them_. They were more than amazing together, in every way possible, and Kate was thankful for every morning she woke up by his side and every day he spent with her. Thinking back again to their first case, she smiled fondly. His 'would've been great' had been an understatement of gigantic proportions.

Kate shrugged her shoulders back out of the crisp, white linen shirt. It was a sensible shirt that exuded professionalism, intelligence, strength and confidence; it tells the world that she means business. However she was stronger and more confident than she had been the last time she had worn it. These days she had less need for power dressing; stark white seemed like the wrong choice this morning. Flicking through the collection hanging in the closet, Kate chose a softer blouse. It was a pale, dusky pink that suited her mood much more than the harsh white. As she buttoned it up, she glanced fleetingly at the scar in the center of her chest. She no longer flinched when she caught sight of it. It no longer terrified her nor taunted her with terrible memories of that vivid day, and she did not let it define her. The scar was a part of her, it always would be, but it was not a _huge_ part of her and she was comfortable with who she had become. The woman smiling back at her in the mirror with the soft, tumbling, caramel curls and the warm glow to her cheeks definitely looked more suited to pink this morning. In fact, she _deserved_ pink.

Sipping her morning coffee and glancing at the bedside clock, Kate huffed; she was late. The old Kate Beckett would have chided herself for being late, but this Kate Beckett remembered _why_ she was late this morning and she smiled to herself as she tried to hurry. She had awakened to the delicious smell of coffee, as she does most mornings these days. Not just any coffee, but glorious, _real_ coffee. The expensive coffee machine would surely be more at home in a busy café than in the kitchen at the loft. Then, of course, there had been the most agonizingly beautiful and deliciously slow love making; gentle caresses and physical abandon washing over them in waves. Not for the first time, she marveled at how well he looked after her, and not just physically but emotionally. He always seemed to know instinctively what she needed and when she needed it. Even_ before_ that defining moment when she had arrived drenched on his doorstep finally acknowledging that she wanted him, he had known her so well. Even better it seemed than she had known herself.

He had waited so patiently for her, loving her unconditionally from afar, while she took her time to figure it out and become the person she wanted to be. Once those walls had come down, she had been rewarded with a richer love and a greater feeling of emotional security than she had ever dreamed possible. They were better together than she had ever imagined- he worshipped her, his love enveloping her like a gentle warm breeze whenever he was near. He loved her like she had _never_ been loved before and oh, how she loved him back. It made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside, the realization that she had found her 'one and done'.

Lost in thought, Kate popped on her necklace, securing her mother's precious engagement ring that dangled from it around to her neck. A reminder that her mom would always be with her, the ring held close to her heart. She allowed her slender fingers to drift lightly across her collarbone and then flinched. There, marring the delicate skin was the start of what was destined to become a glaringly obvious bruise. Frowning briefly, wrinkles creasing her forehead, Kate remembered how he had worshipped her collarbone, her neck, her chest, in fact pretty much _all _of her last night, and then again this morning. She snorted; he would be _proud_ of that hickey. It reminded her of the time they had been 'abducted' by government officials and Espo had teased them about the marks left by the needles in their necks. Turning toward the closet once more, she hunted for a lightweight scarf suitable for the milder spring weather. She grabbed one quickly and noted that it suited her pink blouse perfectly. Now she _was_ chiding herself; she would have to hide that bruise for at least the rest of the week.

Quickly twisting her hair up into a ponytail and securing it with a couple of bobby pins before she wrapped the scarf carefully around her neck, Kate gave herself one final appraisal in the mirror. The bruise was well hidden and, providing she remembered to keep her scarf on all day, there would be no evidence of her late night and early morning activity when she caught up with Lanie and the boys at work. Kate grabbed her coffee cup, drained the cold dregs from within and flicked off the light switch as she exited the bedroom. Hurrying toward the kitchen, she unceremoniously dumped the empty cup in the sink. She checked the time again on her father's watch as she secured it to her left wrist and hissed quietly under her breath- no time for tidying up the kitchen this morning.

It took her a few moments to find her favorite boots, half hidden under the sofa where she had kicked them off last night. Even with the strength and confidence he instilled in her, she still loved the way these boots with the impossibly high heels made her feel; taller, invincible and in control. Snatching up her bag and keys, Kate reached for her coat which was still slung casually over the back of the chair where it had come to rest last night. Inching her arms into the sleeves and pulling her pony tail out over the collar, she headed for the door.

As she began to exit the loft, already planning her journey to the precinct through peak hour traffic, Kate Beckett smiled and called over her shoulder to the man who completes her, her 'one and done', "You coming, Castle?"


End file.
